You're Everywhere

You’re really in everything.  The memory of you is immersed in nearly all the things I have to do in the course of a day. 

The wind chime from your funeral hangs in my flower bed, I love hearing it sing in the wind.  The picture of our family on the beach by the waves is the background of my iPad.  Your advice is embedded in my actions.  Much of the jewelry I wear was a gift from you or used to belong to you.  A coworker brought me fresh-picked flowers for my desk today-- I have a vase from your flower shop in my drawer and I lovingly arranged them in it. 

Dad and I went to your old house yesterday, the renting tenant had moved out. I couldn’t see an empty house ready for another renter, I saw it full of oversized furniture, pictures, and decorations.  My mind’s eye saw Bailey, dad, and I spending time there with you watching sports or rendezvousing as a layover if one of us had a school event.  I could smell dinner cooking in your kitchen.  I walked out onto the back deck and closed my eyes and saw your patio furniture, the hanging planters, the umbrella in your outside table.  I heard our voices and remembered the smiles.

All I have are the memories—which are bright and cheery.  Sometimes I forget how much of my childhood you were around for—since I was 13, really.  I’m lucky, and I know that… some people don’t get the happy step-parent experience… but you were everything we never knew we needed as a family and so much more.  Sometimes I feel like I took it for granted, and I regret that so much because in hindsight I know it was the best thing ever. 

The pain is brutal—it hits me when I come to terms with the fact that it’s all gone.  Not the decorations or the plants or the furniture, but the warmth and love and everything that is tangibly YOU is gone until we see you again.  I’m having a hard time focusing on “fondly remembering” without getting tangled in the bitter resentment over losing you.  Someday I hope to reach into the back of my mind and pull out a memory without ending up in tears.  I don’t know if I’ll ever stop questioning why you’re gone, and I don’t think I’ll ever stop wondering what we’d be doing if you were still here.

I have so many questions...

I just had to google how to take care of flowers for the first time in my life! Having a flower expert just a phone call away to answer all of my questions is just one of the many things I miss. I have so many questions I still need to ask you and oh how I miss being able to pick up the phone and talk to you 3-4 times a day, and text many more than that. I know I'm not alone in feeling this way. Where should we plant the hydrangea that Brad and Kirkland got me for Mother's Day? And where should I put the kalanchoe from Kirkland? Google helped me figure it out, but I'd much rather be asking you. 

It's not just flower questions that I have. Our marriage celebration is in 9 days, and I know I'm forgetting a million things. What am I forgetting? What kind of sangria should I make? Or should I just make a drink of the day? What's in the pina colada punch? And what are the damn measurements for Judy's potato salad? This party would be Pinterest worthy if you were still here, but with me at the healm it'll be a glorified BBQ. I can't help it. I'm trying to focus on all the people that will be here and the fun we'll have, not the details. But I know that I would be a lot less stressed if you were still here to guide me and make it more fun. It's times like these that you amaze me even more. You made any party, big or small, look easy. Guess what? It's hard! 

The other thing that I have lots of questions about is the whole marriage thing. Being a parent was the hardest thing I've ever done, until I got married. It's equally as hard, especially at 39 and after living on my own for 20 years. Oh the questions! How on earth did you move into Barry's house without killing him? How did you love him more every day when I know there were things he did that drove you nuts? I'm guessing it was easier for you because you weren't facing all of these changes in the year after losing your sissy, your very best friend. I think I'd be handling it a lot better if you were still here. I realized this week that maybe going back to work without taking any time off may have been a poor choice. I helped Barry clean out your things, then went back to work, planned a wedding, moved in with Brad, got married, and planned a party, all while working a really demanding job, raising a child, trying to make a marriage work and sell a house. I am completely and utterly overwhelmed. There are not enough essential oils or anti-depressants in the world to help. Drinking doesn't help either. I keep doing it...trying to get through all of the firsts. Kirkland is with Nana and Papa for several days so that we can get ready for the party. This is the longest I've been apart from him since you died. After crying a lot today I've realized how much of a distraction he is for me...how being his mom has kept me from falling apart. His smile, his laughter, his strong personality, and his curiosity have kept me from losing my shit completely. I'm so glad that God gave me him and Brad prior to taking you from me. I'm looking forward to having 3 months of summer so that I can make up for the times that I've neglected my boys, especially Kirkland. I'm also looking forward to figuring out how to better live and handle life without you in it. Feel free to send some guidance my way. And some answers to the questions that could quite easily be answered if you were still here.